Thursday 26 – Friday 27 November 2015
Wads of money covered the bench top, each roll carefully secured with two elastic bands. The open ledger at the end of the bench detailed thousands of dollars worth of transactions across the week. Olga Renmark smiled as she surveyed the money in front of her.
‘And that’s all just from one week?’
Olga turned towards the voice. ‘Yes, from one week.’
‘Maybe I should get into your line of work.’
She casually leaned against the bench top, laughing as she spoke. ‘Darling, there’s no way you have the stomach to do what I do. You’re simply not cut out for it, Hugo.’
‘Really? And how hard could it possibly be to point and click?’
‘I don’t point and click at anyone, you fool.’
* * * * *
A police file currently on the desk of a Steppingstone Police Department detective revealed that Hugo Weinmann was a petty thief, fraudster, and low level drug dealer. Nowhere in that file was there any information linking Hugo to assaults or murders. He was too sensitive to perpetrate that sort of heinous crime. Olga, on the other hand, was a steely, cold-hearted forty two year old with a police file as thick as a telephone book. She was at the top of the Steppingstone PD’s most wanted list. The only trouble was, up to this point she had been nigh on impossible to catch in the act.
Ryan Smoker, newly transferred to Steppingstone, picked at the files looking for something to do. Four weeks had passed since his arrival in Steppingstone, and not an ounce of crime work had fallen across his desk. Untested and far from being trusted by his colleagues, Smoker’s work life had revolved around cleaning out, and organising, the record room. A few interesting files had caught his eye, and he’d piled them on his desk as future reading material.
Olga Renmark and Hugo Weinmann’s files were the most interesting files he’d come across. He found himself returning to those two files over and over again. Her mug shot showed a classically beautiful woman, but there was hardness and cruelty evident in her eyes.
* * * * *
‘And what makes you so special, Olga? You think just because you’re my big sister that you can treat me like crap, and I’ll let you get away with it? You’ve never believed that I was good enough to do anything.’ Hugo slumped into the sofa, and threw his legs up on the coffee table.
‘Get your filthy feet off of my furniture,’ Olga snapped, ‘before I point and click at you.’
He did as she instructed. Olga was family, but she was still a scary woman, and not someone you crossed no matter how small the indiscretion.
‘I get it. I get why dad trained you up in the family business, and not me. I do. But, come on, don’t I deserve a chance to prove myself?’
‘Whining is unbecoming, Hugo. And you’ve had every opportunity to prove yourself, but you’ve failed miserably at ever turn,’ Olga replied.
‘I’ve failed miserably? Hey, who’s police file is bigger, yours or mine? That’s right . . . yours.’
‘And how would you know that?’
Hugo blushed, and bashfully replied, ‘I might have dated a cop once. Sheila from Steppingstone PD. She told me that your file was bigger than mine.’
‘You dated a cop from Steppingstone? And she was stupid enough to discuss our files with you? Jesus, Hugo, why the hell didn’t you keep her around? She could have been useful to us.’
Olga turned back to the wads of cash on the bench top. All accounted for, she packed the rolls of money back into the leather satchel that they were stored in, and returned the satchel to her bedroom.
‘You just gonna leave all that money on your bed?’
‘No, Hugo, that would be the sort of stupid thing that you’d do, and that’s why dad didn’t want you anywhere near the business.’
‘Typical,’ Hugo sneered. ‘So it’s entirely acceptable for you to kill people, but I’m not allowed to. Fine, if that’s the way it’s gonna be . . .’
Olga sighed. Another one of Hugo’s tantrums was the last thing she wanted to deal with, especially with another hit in the planning stage.
. . . To be continued . . .